Where the fiction's made up and the rolls don't matter! Well, they do matter, but it all depends on interpretation...
Caught in the Rain is a solo mystery game that uses playing cards and dice to tell a story, created by Nicholas Robinia and published by the Ravensridge Emporium. I backed the project on kickstarter and I'm so glad I did because I am in love! The book is filled with prompts and ideas that can be interpreted in twisty ways and expanded on forever. Playing this game feels like you're writing a new story (which you are, let's be real) one scene at a time, with no idea what's going on! It's so much fun and it really scratches that creative itch.
The end result of a game looks like a rough draft of a story- not something I'd normally want to share seriously, but I do want to share the small fictions that emerge.
You can find a digital copy of Caught in the Rain here and a physical copy here- one day I'll have physical copy myself...
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Wren arrives at the market with sweat rolling down her neck. The crowd has mostly dispersed, the city guards having set up a perimeter and hustled most people away. It's not looking good.
Nearby, a man in shabby looking armour stalks the stalls. He asks a merchant a question, limping to another when he gets an answer. [Level 1 threat- fallen knight]
Hoisting her healing kit, Wren approaches the guards. "I'm here to identify the victim," she says, trying to sound professional. [Insight- failure. New keyword: Faerie. Threat ^level.] The guard looks at her with a raised eyebrow.
"You don't look like the coroner..."
"I'm not, but I was told it might be someone I know," Wren explains. Her hands tighten on the strap of her kit. I hope she was wrong... [Insight- success at cost. Threat ^level.] Meanwhile, the armoured man gets closer... [+1 danger]
[+1 danger]
<- Introducing Wren Porter
Discovery
The guard frowns, but lets Wren past. She walks closer to the body, but pauses when she hears shouting from the other side of the guards perimeter.
"But who did it?! You're all just standing around when we could have a killer on the loose?!" An hysterical woman barges past the guards into Wren's face. "You! Did you see it? The hunters! They're everywhere! Nowhere is safe!"
"Ma'am, please-" The poor guards seem completely out of their depth. They must be pretty new to the job if this is enough to stump them. Wren sighs.
"Look, hey, I didn't see any hunters or anything-" The woman wails about doom and the end of civilisation, shoving a bit of paper into Wren's hand. [Insight- failure. New keyword: Talisman. +1 danger] Suddenly, the shabby, armoured man pushes through.
"What's are you yapping about?" He asks the woman. His gaze then turns to Wren and her healers kit. "Are you a healer? I've been looking for one! I need you to come see my friend, right now!" He grabs Wren by the arm, trying to pull her along. [+2 fatigue]
"Hey, let go!" She looks to the guards, but they're too busy with the hysterical woman to notice. "Give me a minute!" She wrenches her arm out of the man's grip.
"Okay, but be quick, please!"
Wren pulls a vial out of her bag and hands it to one of the guards. "Here. It'll help her," she says, nodding at the woman. [Method- full success. Doubles- random event. Bonus clue: Poisonous substance]
{Random event: While Wren is talking to the guard in front of her, one of the others is taking a message from a courier.
"What? It's going to cost how much?! Screw that, I'd rather hire someone off the street!" He looks around and sees the scruffy, armoured man. "Hey! C'mere a minute!"}
"Huh," the guard says. "The victim had some vials like this in his bag. What is it?" Wren's eyes widen. It is him!
"This is just a sedative. Do you mind if I have a look at the bag?" The guard jerks his head in the bag's direction before turning his attention to administering the sedative.
Rifling through the bag, Wren finds several vials. Some she's familiar with, but one of them is in an unusual shade of purple. She unstoppers it and gives it a sniff- poison! She slips the vial into her pocket for later examination.
"Are you done?" The armoured man returns from talking with the guard. "I really need you to come with with me." Wren takes a deep breath.
"Almost!"
[+1 danger]
Acquisition
Wren finally turns to the body. She lifts the cloth covering it and sighs. Dammit Silas, she thinks. You were supposed to come to my shop first thing... [Insight- full success. Clue: Aura. Bonus clue: Ritual marks]
Out of the corner of her eye, Wren notices a strange haze in the air above Silas's skin. Now what could that be? Taking a pair of tweezers from her kit, she gingerly pulls back his shirt and gasps. As well as the weird hazy aura, a black mark seems burned into the skin just below Silas's collarbones. Why does he have this?! Wren recognises the mark. It's from a ritual that takes a learned skill from the victim and transfers it to the ritualist. Very illegal in most places. Which skill was stolen from him? And by who?!
Just as she's trying to think who might have knowledge of the ritual, the shabby man grabs her by the arm again. [+1 fatigue- Strike Method]
"Let's go already!"
[+1 danger]
Escape
Wren yanks her arm out of the man's grip. [Power- success with cost. +1 danger] "Stop grabbing at me! I'll be there soon, okay?" She turns and subtly waves over a guard and asks them to distract the man. [Insight- full success. Bonus clue: Torn clothing]
Wren pulls the cloth back up over Silas's still frame before she leaves, and notices something odd- her colleagues sleeve is torn! She makes a mental note of a missing strip of dark green cotton and slips away while both guards and shabby man are distracted with each other.
Wren Porter is utterly exhausted, but managed to acquire four clues! Purple poison, skill-stealing ritual marks, a strange hazy aura, and a torn sleeve.
Current danger: 6
There is a level 3 threat: a shabby, desperate looking man in worn armour. He appears to want Wren to help his friend, but who knows what his real motive is...
No keywords have been used, but Wren's Method attribute is out of commission!
Wren Porter, a somewhat superstitious apothecary, has been waiting on the arrival of an esteemed colleague all day. His letter had said he had information that could help with her private creation, which had been stalled for weeks now, leaving her near tears of frustration whenever she had time to think about it.
She was about to start searching the inns when she heard the news.
"Dead?! Why? How? Where?!"
"The markets," her apprentice told her, freshly returned from that very place. "I was packin' up when I heard."
Wren grabs her kit from beneath the counter and rushes out into the late afternoon heat.
